By: Chloe Breen, Photographer and Sports Layout Director
Photographing a music festival was never on my to-do list. However, that all changed the day before the Borderland Festival in East Aurora, when I saw that three of my favorite bands – Houndmouth, Wilderado and Caamp – were a part of the festival lineup. The only problem: there was no way I could afford the $150 day pass, considering the whole broke college student thing. Could I sneak in? Maybe, but I didn’t want to risk getting banned for life.
That’s when it hit me; maybe I could score a media pass as a photographer! I quickly applied online, making myself sound as professional as possible, and submitted my portfolio. To my surprise, I got approved just a few minutes later. However, my excitement was short-lived when I read the fine print: “Media pass does not include admission.” Back to square one.
Determined to get into the Borderland Festival, I turned to the Borderland fan club Facebook group and its chaotic mix of last-minute deals and potential scams. I messaged at least 30 people, posted three desperate pleas and practically begged for a ticket at a price that wouldn’t break the bank. A whole day passed without a single bite, and by the morning of the concert, I lost all hope of a ticket.
Then, like an angel of questionable intentions, an elderly woman named Susan slid into my DMs. She offered me a ticket at my price of $80, but I was 99% sure I was about to get scammed by some lady who learned the art of Photoshop. But desperate times call for desperate Venmos. I took the bait and sent the payment. Please, Susan, don’t send me a fake ticket, I thought as I held my breath.
After what felt like an eternity, she sent me the ticket. It looked somewhat legitimate, but with no other options, I packed up my camera gear, prayed to the festival gods, and headed to the festival.
When I got to the venue, I took one last deep breath before they scanned my ticket; to my surprise, it was real! The excitement finally hit me when I picked up the official photographer media pass. I had no idea what to expect, but my last-minute dream of photographing one of my favorite bands, Houndmouth, was about to come true as they were the next band to play.
I was allowed to shoot just the first three songs of their set, so I immediately got to work when they started playing. At first, I tried to mirror the positioning of the more experienced photographers in the pit, but I quickly realized I needed to find my own angles to capture the best shots. As I snapped photos, singing along to “Sedona,” I realized this was the coolest thing I’d ever done. The day before, I was without a ticket to this festival, but there I was, photographing my favorite band.
By the time they finished the third song, I was in the zone when just like that, we were kicked out of the pit. I found my sister, put down the camera, and enjoyed the rest of their set, overjoyed and hoping the photos turned out okay.
Next up was Wilderado, an indie folk band from Oklahoma. With the sun fully down, their set was a vibrant mix of flashing reds, greens, and blues, which made adjusting my camera settings tricky. Though I had just three songs to capture their energy, I managed to snap some of my favorite shots, both of the band and the crowd. I even got to meet the band after the show, scoring a signed setlist!
With the crowd pumped from Wilderado, the last show was the headliner: Caamp. With my standard media pass, I wasn’t allowed to go into the pit, but I couldn’t resist at least trying to get a couple shots.
As I approached the pit, I held my camera high, hoping to slip past security without them questioning my pass. They were strict, however, and there was no way I was getting in with just a standard pass. I threw out every excuse, insisting I was an experienced concert photographer (total bluff) and that this was my dream band. After some back and forth, we struck a deal; I could shoot the first song. In the back of my mind though, I knew I wasn’t leaving after one song.
The second I hit the pit, adrenaline surged. I darted through the tight space, camera clicking relentlessly, barely aware of the music. Time warped. It felt like not even five minutes went by before security booted us out again, but I knew I had something special. In the pit, you’re in a raw, electric space between the crowd and the stage, catching the energy from both sides. Fans were shuffling, heads bobbing to every beat, their faces lit up with pure emotion; it was magic, and I had captured it all.
Looking back, photographing the Borderland Festival was one of the most spontaneous, nerve-wracking and rewarding experiences I’ve ever had. With just a day’s notice and zero festival photography experience, I learned to take every chance that comes my way – and to always trust ladies named Susan. (And Susan, if you’re reading this, thank you from the bottom of my heart.)
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